


A Dream of Severance

by BlackDog9314



Series: Rhapsodic 'Verse Time-Stamps [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Angst, Drug Use, Gen, POV Meg Masters, Rhapsodic 'verse, time-stamp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 19:55:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3741643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackDog9314/pseuds/BlackDog9314
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meg says goodbye to a friend, in her way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Dream of Severance

**Author's Note:**

> This time-stamp takes place in late summer before the fall semester in which Meg meets Castiel.  
> To read the main work these one shots are written to accompany, click [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2660231/chapters/5945528).

Meg loaded the bowl as quickly as she could, lighting the herb in her bright red pipe and inhaling deeply. She fanned at the smoke as it wafted from the mouthpiece after she moved it from her lips. She hoped the motion combined with the bathroom fan would dissipate the scent well enough.

A few hits later and her little bowl was cashed. Meg dumped the ash from the pipe into her palm and let the little pile of gray flutter down into the toilet. She flushed it promptly and put her red piece in her bag, unlocking the stall and stepping out in front of the smeared mirror.

The bathroom definitely smelled a little, but Meg had stopped caring as she took out the drops she always kept in her purse to lessen the redness rimming her brown eyes.

When Meg emerged from the bathroom and back into the tattoo parlor, Ava wrinkled her nose.

“Did you fucking smoke pot in the bathroom?” Ava demanded as Meg sauntered over to the chair beside a table bedecked with tattooing equipment and a few sheets of paper.

“Maybe,” Meg said noncommittally.

“Seriously? Whatever, dude. You better air that shit out when I'm done with this.”

“I'll smoke you out after, do you one even better,” Meg said, smirking.

Ava's eyes narrowed, “Just sit in the damn chair. You're lucky I don't kick you out.”

“Come on, Ava. You wouldn't,” Meg said with an exaggerated eyelash flutter as she sat backward in the chair. She straddled it and pulled her shirt up to expose the small of her back, where the tattoo would be going.

The feeling of a one-blade razor dragging over her skin was followed by the wet chill of antiseptic soap; Meg closed her eyes and laid her head down on her hands where they were folded and resting on the back of the chair.

“Hold still,” Ava cautioned as a few minutes later the stencil had been placed and Meg heard the buzz of the woken machine.

A few minutes passed in silence as the needle sewed an inked pattern onto Meg's skin.

Then, “I heard what happened. Are you gonna go back?”

Meg said nothing, closing her eyes so tightly it almost hurt as she dug her nails into the flesh of her palms. 

Forty-five minutes later the tattoo was complete and Meg extricated herself from the chair, standing and walking over to the full-length mirror hanging in the parlor back-room.

Ava came up behind her as Meg took in the sight of the words slung over the skin of her back like black, inky water droplets, the text rolling and rounded.

“Margaret? What do you think?”

Meg turned around to face Ava, her shirt still rucked-up over her belly and her back. The newly torn flesh was stinging and tender even beneath the musty air alone.

Ava's round face hadn't changed much since they were girls, Meg noticed. She, on the other hand, barely recognized herself when she looked through the few pictures taken of her as a child. Same hair, same eyes, but not the same look in them.

“You're the only person who still calls me that, Ava.”

 


End file.
